Poppit Sands
I went to Poppit Sands last year – I'd never been before. It's famous for its seaside fun But some folk go for more. They take no notice of the noise, The burgers and ice-creams. They wander off in aimless groups, Or that's the way it seems. But they're finding themselves a quiet spot To satisfy their quirk – They unpack easels, brushes, paints. Now they're ready for some work. They sit and look, then look some more – Might eat a custard cream. And when they've looked sufficiently They slip into a dream. In the dream they might see yellow skies That dominate the scene – The water's just a patch of blue, And the land a patch of green. I fell in love with Poppit Sands And its wanderers on the shore. I'm right at home with the little clique – I'll soon be back for more.